


Turn Left

by levele3



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: 2016 strange magic week, Day 2, F/M, Magic, Strange Magic week, Time slip, Weddings, butterfly bog, prompt, timmy wimmy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7792291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marianne Fairchild was the luckiest, happiest, woman in the whole world. Tomorrow she would be marrying the love of her life, Roland Greene. She gave a girlish giggle as she snuggled down deeper into the squishy queen-sized mattress. In the morning she was getting married! As excited nerves gave way to calm sleep Marianne had one last thought, what if I had never met Roland? What if I hadn’t gotten lost on my way to that interview? What if I had of turned left? </p><p>Strange Magic Week 2016 entry: Day 2: Wedding</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn Left

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time participating in one of these, I won't have something for every day but I had this thought today at work and just had to write it out! Enjoy!

Marianne Fairchild was the luckiest, happiest, woman in the whole world. Tomorrow she would be marrying the love of her life, Roland Greene. She gave a girlish giggle as she snuggled down deeper into the squishy queen-sized mattress. In the morning she was getting married! As excited nerves gave way to calm sleep Marianne had one last thought, _what if I had never met Roland? What if I hadn’t gotten lost on my way to that interview? What if I had of turned left?_

***

Marianne sat at the traffic light, silently begging it to turn green, she was running late, _so late_ , the interviewer had probably already left.

The light turned green.

Marianne edged the car forward, made the left turn, and found a parking spot.

Okay, maybe this was her day after all?

Marianne reaches the café door just as someone exits, an impossibly tall someone. _Seriously_ , where do they grow people that tall? He is kind enough to hold the door for her but his cream coloured dossier with its green tree logo doesn’t register until a second too late.

The door closes behind her. The café’s chime still rings in her ears. A cursory glance reveals no interviewer waiting for her. 

 _Fuck._  

She knew, _she knew_ , she was running late, her luck had run out.

The café chime rings again.

“You wouldn’t be Miss. Fairchild, by any chance would you?” a deep rich voice asks from the doorway.

Marianne turns, her professional smile already in place, hand extended, “Mr. King, it’s so nice to meet you.”

He invites her to take a seat. They both order a tea. An hour later Marianne is hired. She can start work on Monday.

***

Marianne has been working for Mr. King for a month when one late night still sees them both in the office.

“Miss. Fairchild? Miss. Fairchild?” a voice calls.

Marianne snorts as she jerks awake. She had fallen asleep at her desk. She looks around wildly for the voice that woke her and her eyes go wide when they connect with Mr. King’s piercing blue. His lips twitch at the corner when a piece of paper that had been stuck to Marianne’s cheek falls to the floor.

“I was just going for a coffee” he says, his tone deep and even, “would you care to join me?” the question is a squeak. His normal confidence has vanished and Marianne wonders why he suddenly seems so shy.

In the reduced office lighting it’s hard to tell but she thinks his cheeks are tinted by a faint blush. _He shouldn’t be the embarrassed one_ , she thinks, _I’m the one who snorted_.  

“Yeah, coffee sounds great” Marianne’s voice sounds like it’s coming from far away.

She trips trying to stand up. She’s so tired. She doesn’t remember the last time she was home, or ate, or slept. Marianne never reaches the floor. Two strong arms twined around her and pull her soundly against a wall of tight muscle that was warm.

Oh, so warm, Marianne nuzzled her face into her boss’s broad chest, and inhaled deeply of his cologne. It reminded her of when she used to go camping in the woods with her mother. 

“Marianne?” his voice came out strained, as though he were in physical pain. 

A shiver ran down her spine, Marianne had never heard him say her name aloud before.

“Bog?” she asked, pulling away slightly from him.

Silently she gazed up at him, his eyes were bright, dilated and hooded. They kissed. Then they kissed again. Marianne’s heart raced as the continued to kiss, they explored each other’s mouths with lips, tongue, and teeth. Her hands explored the plains of his chest while his griped at her waist. 

When they finally pulled away from one another their lips were swollen and their hair was ruffled. Marianne produces a needy whine. Already the loss of contact is unbearable. They skip coffee. Instead they make way to his office where a well-worn leather couch resides, where-in Marianne promptly falls asleep. 

***

At six months together they go to a tattoo parlor. When Marianne had finally gotten Bog’s dress shirt off she never could have imagined the intricate tattoos that snaked across his chest and back, and slithered down his toned arms. 

“I always wanted one” she tells him, late one night, after making love, her finger following the vine down his bicep.  

The shop smells of disinfectant.

Marianne gets a medium sized butterfly on her hip. It’s big and a rich, royal purple in colour. It hurts like a bitch.

Bog gets a dragonfly in greyscale, but there is an amber sheen to its wings. He gets it inked on his chest, right over his heart inside the ring of a Celtic knot circle. 

***

After eight months together Bog proposes. He’s a nervous wreck. He’s proposed before and been rejected. It’s too soon, _much_ too soon. She can’t possibly say yes!

She says yes!  

The wedding was set for June 21st, the Summer Equinox.

***

Marianne Fairchild was the luckiest, happiest, woman in the whole world. Tomorrow she would be marrying the love of her life, Bog King. She gave a girlish giggle as she snuggled down deeper into the squishy queen-sized mattress. In the morning she was getting married! 

***

Marianne woke up the morning of her wedding utterly confused, with no idea of who she was marrying. 

That was ridiculous, she was marrying Roland of course. Perfect, charming Roland, with his perfect teeth, and his wavy golden halo of hair.

Marianne huffed a dreamy sigh while simultaneously scrunching her nose in distaste.  

The dream she had, had been so vivid, so real. In it she’d been in love with a man named Bog. Bog King, he was tall with dark hair and brilliant blue eyes. Marianne shook her head, it had just been nerves. He wasn’t real. They’d met at the café where she was supposed to have that interview. The interview she’d never made it to.

At the lights Marianne had gone straight completely missing the street where she was supposed to have turned. Instead she had met Roland. Kind, charismatic Roland, with flashy green convertible that matched the colour of his eyes.

“Ready for the big day?” Dawn asked swaying into Marianne’s hotel room.

“Dawn, who am I marrying?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“Roland of course” her sister answered without batting an eye, or thinking it an odd question.

“And do- do you think he loves me, for me?” Marianne asked, self-doubt plaguing her. suddenly

“Of course, how could he not?” Dawn cooed over Marianne’s shoulder as both girls looked at her reflection in the mirror.

***

Down at breakfast Marianne’s jaw dropped.

The man from her dream was in the breakfast line, heaping his plate high with scrambled egg, toast, and bacon.

Okay, that was weird. It was one thing to dream of a guy she’d never met before, but another guest in the hotel?

Marianne did the only thing she could do, she went over to talk to him.

A thousand first lines went through her head, _“do I know you?” “have we met before?”_

She needn’t have fret though, the man knew who she was.

“Marianne” Bog said with some surprise, and more than a little apprehension.

His voice was just as she remembered from the dream, but the way he said her name made her blood go cold and she halted in her trek towards him.

“You know me?” she asked, surprised but also pleased.

Her blood started pumping again.

“How could I forget ye” he said, his voice going rough, and he drew his bushy eyebrows down in a frown.

Okay, she was not welcome here. Marianne took a cautionary step back.

“I’m getting married today” she said flatly.

“Well congratulations” he spat.

Her hurt must have showed because a look of confusion crossed his face.

“Haven’t ye hurt me enough” he pleaded with her silently, his face falling into a sad expression, “please, just leave me alone.” With that he turned and walked away from her and Marianne felt as though she was losing a limb.  

She had never met this man before in her life. She had only just dreamed about him. _What could I have possibly done to hurt him?_  

***

Marianne was lost. Who knew the hotel was so big?

“Hello?” she called out, hoping for an answer, but expecting none.

Much to the chagrin of everyone involved, especially Roland, Marianne convinced them to post-pone the wedding for one day. She had to clear her head. Nothing felt right, everything felt wrong.

She walked a little further until a blue shimmering light caught her eye. At first Marianne thought she’d found the hotel pool, the blue light merely a reflection.

Marianne entered the room and found not the pool but a woman.  

It was the woman who was blue, she was the source of the light. She sat in the middle of the room, cross lagged in a trance like state.

Marianne could get no closer to the woman than five feet; it was as if an invisible wall was between her and the woman.

“Hello?” Marianne called again.

This time she was rewarded with a response. The blue woman woke from her trance, startled by Marianne’s presence.

“Marianne!” the woman cried with joy!

Marianne was taken back, this was the second time today a complete strange had recognized her.

“Do I know you?” Marianne asked.

“Yes, well sort of, it’s a long story anyway, here’s what you need to know.”  

The woman, who called herself Plum, told Marianne this:

After failing to win Marianne’s heart in this life had gone to hunt her down and forced her to turn back time, erasing the year she had spent with Bog and filling it with memories of being with Roland.   

Marianne listened with a calm attentive ear. Everything made so much more sense now. Of course she loved Bog, she always had, the dream was just her real memories leaking through.

“But Bog knew me” Marianne protested.

“It gets worse” Plum explained, “it’s not only your memories that are tampered with, so are his.”  

A knot of dread worked its way down Marianne’s throat but she nodded for Plum to continue.

“Remember the woman who refused him, called him hideous?” Plum asked cautiously. She knew Marianne could have a temper.

The knot settled in Marianne’s stomach and tears sprang to her eyes, she clapped her hands over her moth to cover her mounting sobs.

“In this version of reality, he thinks it was you.”

Her worst fears confirmed, Marianne sank to her knees and let the tears flow freely from her eyes.

“True loves kiss!” She said suddenly, “that always breaks the spell.” Marianne was already planning how she could get close enough to Bog to kiss him when she noticed Plum shaking her head in a no.”

“That won’t work, not this time.”

“What can I do then? There must be something. I refuse to marry Roland” Marianne spat.

“You must make Bog fall in love with you before midnight tonight.”

Marianne’s heart dropped. Roland would be watching her like a hawk, he probably didn’t expect anything yet but she was sure he had a plan.

*** 

Bog stood out in the hallway from where the strange blue light was emitting. He never would have believed half of what he just heard or saw if he hadn’t of heard and seen it himself.

There sat the woman who had broken his heart, locked it away and vowed never to fall in love again. She was shallow and vain, and crying because some part of her thought she loved him and couldn’t be with him.

Bog grew uncomfortable watching. He knew he would never be fool enough to fall in love with her twice that’s why he felt he had nothing to lose when he stepped into the room and said, “perhaps I could be of some help?”


End file.
